


Amends

by Deastar



Series: To Be Seen Aright [7]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Established Relationship, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 14:29:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17024400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deastar/pseuds/Deastar
Summary: Vero visits Sid and Geno at home to apologize for Flower failing to stick up for Sid at the end ofTo Be Seen Aright. But it's not Vero's apology that Sid wants.





	Amends

**Author's Note:**

> This story picks up right after To Be Seen Aright ends. I tried to put in enough exposition to remind you where we left off, but if it's been a long time since you read the original fic, it might not hurt to go back and read the last couple of scenes to refresh your memory.
> 
> I was lucky enough to get comments on this fic from a veritable army: my sincerest thanks to greymichaela, chibinecco, spiritsflame, chickenlivesinpumpkin, cyberconfetti, themostfantasticdream, paranault, wjgravity, and JW for sharing their thoughts on what worked and what didn't.

When the doorbell rings, they’re sprawled out on the couch, still coming down from the afternoon’s scene. It had been a long one; Geno had taken Sid’s “Your marks have faded, I need some new ones” as a prompt to painstakingly wrap Sid in an elaborate spiraling full-body tie, in a process that required every bit of Sid’s attention and Geno’s expertise. Afterward, both of them had been too wrung-out to really do anything constructive. Sid’s reading his book; Geno’s half-watching Animal Planet and fucking around with his phone.

Geno takes the sound of the doorbell as a personal affront, moaning, “No. Don’t want,” and burying his face in the couch cushions.

But since the only people who have the gate code are friends and teammates, Sid heaves himself up onto his feet and tells Geno, “Come on, G – we better see who it is.” It’s most likely somebody from the team coming to have some more feelings at the two of them about their relationship—someone who’s got some opinion to express about Sid disciplining Geno on the bench last night or Geno telling off the press in Sid’s defense this morning—and if Sid is being honest, that’s basically the last fucking thing he wants to deal with. But leaving one of their teammates standing out there in the October chill forever is not the mature and responsible way to handle it.

When they get to the front door, Sid peeks through the window and blinks, surprised.

“It’s Vero,” he says. “Flower’s not with her.”

He can hear the hurt in his own voice, and winces – that’s not fair. Sid likes Vero, she’s been a good friend to him, and under any other circumstances, he’d be really happy to see her. But right now, Sid can’t help feeling Flower’s absence more keenly than Vero’s presence.

After last night—after Flower hadn’t said a word to defend him when everyone else was telling Sid he’d fucked up and ruined everything—Sid had thought that Flower would text him to apologize, or come up to him at practice today, _something_. But there was no text, and at practice this morning, Flower had avoided Sid’s eyes. It hurt. Sid doesn’t understand it. He’d tried hard not to think about it. But now…

_Now Vero is here, and Flower’s not_. Sid doesn’t know what it means, but it doesn’t feel good.

He opens the door, pulling on a smile—but Vero looks solemn when she asks if she can come inside.

In the foyer, Vero’s eyes land on Geno, and she takes a deep, steadying breath. “Thank you for welcoming me to your home,” she says.

With equal formality, Geno replies, “You very welcome,” but Sid can tell from the lines around Geno’s eyes that he’s just as perplexed by this visit as Sid is.

Vero pulls in another deep breath and squares her shoulders. Whatever she’s about to do or say, Sid thinks, it’s not easy for her.

With her eyes fixed on Geno’s, she says, “After the game last night, some of Marc-Andre’s teammates insulted your professionalism and your dominance, and they hurt and frightened your submissive.” She nods respectfully in Sid’s direction, meeting his eyes briefly before turning back to Geno. “Marc-Andre did not stand up for you, or for Sid, even though Sid is his close friend— _our_ close friend—and Sid was in the right. I am very disappointed in Marc-Andre’s behavior, and I apologize for the harm done to you. To you both,” she adds, nodding to Sid again.

Sid blinks, trying to absorb what Vero just said. He’s not used to hearing her speak so formally, or so somberly. But it’s really the content that seems odd to him, not her manner. Sure, it feels good to hear her—to hear _anyone_ —acknowledge what happened, and that Sid was in the right, but…

“ _You_ didn’t do anything wrong,” Sid protests, finally putting his finger on what’s bothering him. He doesn’t disagree with her description of what happened, or that it was wrong, but he doesn’t understand why _she’s_ apologizing.

But Vero shakes her head. “I am responsible for Marc-Andre,” she says firmly. “If I get a share of the credit when he does well, then I must also accept a share of the blame when he fails.”

Sid can see the sense in that. And in a different frame of mind, he’d even find it… appealing, he thinks. Admirable. So often doms seem to want to take only the easy parts of dominance—the power, the privileges and prerogatives—and not the responsibilities and hard work that come along with them.

But Sid _doesn’t_ find it appealing, and it _doesn’t_ feel nice or admirable or fair or any of those things. It just feels _confusing_ , because nothing that Vero said really responded to what’s been bothering Sid every time he thinks of the way Flower ignored him last night and today.

And so when Geno steps forward and starts to thank Vero for her apology, Sid can’t let him finish, can’t let this all be tied up in a nice bow and left at that, because—

“I don’t want—this,” he blurts out.

He doesn’t like the desperate, jagged tone in his own voice, but he can’t regret the words. He meant them. And he thinks they’re important.

He knows it was super fucking rude to have interrupted Geno, and he shoots him an apologetic look, but Geno doesn’t seem bothered. He just rests a supportive hand on the center of Sid’s back and looks to Vero, waiting for her response.

Vero doesn’t seem angry with Sid, either – just curious.

She lifts an eyebrow and asks, softly, “What do you want, Sid?”

That’s easy. Sid doesn’t even have to think before the words tumble out of his mouth: “I want to know where Flower is. He’s the one who was there: why isn’t _he_ apologizing?”

Vero pauses; opens her mouth for a moment, as if she’s about to answer, but then carefully closes it again, rethinking. When she eventually does answer, her voice is very quiet.

“I assure you, it is much worse for Marc-Andre to know that I am here, humbling myself because of what he has done—or failed to do—than it would be for him to apologize himself.”

_But that doesn’t answer my question_ , Sid thinks, frustrated. _Again_.

“Worse…” he repeats, shaking his head – in bewilderment, not denial. “Why does that matter?”

Vero blinks, as bewildered by Sid’s words as he was by hers. “I—It matters because… because Marc-Andre has done a wrong thing,” she says. She’s visibly struggling for words, as if what she’s saying is so basic that she’s never had to think about how to explain it before. “A very wrong thing, that hurt someone, so he—he has to be punished.”

Sid has to brace himself as about a dozen contradictory reactions flood through him. On the one hand, the system that Vero is describing— _if action, then consequence_ —resonates deeply with him, down to his core. But on the other hand… here, now, for this particular thing, that system feels as wrong to Sid as the crack of a belt across his back.

_I’m hurting_ , Sid thinks, feeling that ache of abandonment all through his bones, _and the system is set up to come here and drag up all that hurt, but it’s not set up to give me anything that’ll actually make me feel better. When someone I love fails me, all that system can do is make sure that the person I love is being hurt right back. How is that better? How is that good at all?_

“I told you, I don’t want this,” Sid says, trying—and failing—to keep his frustration out of his tone of voice. “I don’t care if Flower is being _punished_ – that’s not what I want. That’s never what I wanted. I just want my best friend back.”

His throat is thick and his eyes are stinging—and yeah, it’s probably not a great idea for him to be dealing with this so soon after an intense scene—but now that he’s started, the words won’t stop pouring out of him.

“I want to see _Flower_ , I want to hear what _he_ has to say. I want to know why he didn’t stand up for me.” Sid’s voice is shaking badly, and his chest feels so tight that it’s hard to breathe. But he has one more thing to say, and when he trusts that he can say it without his voice giving out, he concludes, “You’re trying to make this a thing between two doms, but it’s _not about you_. This is between me and Flower and _I want my friend._ ”

He’s crying a little by the end and he’s probably pissed off his boyfriend and one of his closest dom friends, who were just trying to do the right thing, by the rules that they’d been taught. But fuck it, he wants Flower.

Geno doesn’t seem mad, though – he steps closer to Sid and wraps an arm around his shoulders, which is a pretty unmistakable gesture of support, and something tight-wound inside of Sid relaxes. It means a lot to know that Geno has his back on this.

Geno, meanwhile, kisses Sid’s temple, then turns to Vero. Carefully, he says, “I thank you for come here for apologize – is most polite. But I think…” He shrugs. “I think Sid right. This maybe not our business.”

From the expression on her face, it’s clear that Vero doesn’t like that at all. But her tone is calm when she replies, “You and Sid have one kind of relationship, and it is a good relationship for you, and it makes you happy. But Marc-Andre and I have a different kind of relationship—a kind of relationship where everything that Marc-Andre does is my business.”

She takes a breath, and suddenly smiles, wryly. “I am not used to having to defend that,” she says, almost to herself. “To defending the kind of relationship I have with my sub.”

_Walk a mile in my shoes_ , Sid thinks.

It must show on his face, because Vero smiles again and inclines her head toward him, acknowledging the point. “Yes,” she says ruefully. “Yes.”

It helps, a little – knowing that she can see what Sid sees. Knowing that she’s taking this moment of discomfort as a doorway to empathy rather than a reason to lash out. Not many doms would.

Vero runs a hand through her hair and huffs out a short sigh. “I was so sure I was doing the right thing,” she says, thinking aloud. “And for me, and for Marc-Andre, I was. But not, as you have said, the right thing for you.”  She lifts her head to look straight at Sid. “And you are the person who has been most wronged. So that matters. It matters very much.”

She takes a step closer to Sid, and tells him soberly, “I am not sorry I came here, and I do not take back my apology on Marc-Andre’s behalf. It was what _we_ needed. But now…” She smiles at Sid again and extends her open hands toward him. “Please. My dear friend, Sid. Will you come to my house and accept my beloved Marc-Andre’s apology?”

Sid knew he wanted those words, but until he heard them, he didn’t realize _how much_. When he exhales and reaches for Vero’s hands, it feels like the first full breath he’s let out since she walked in the door. “Yes,” he says, with all his heart. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I want to do.”

*

It takes Sid and Geno a little while to work out whether Geno should come along, and eventually, Vero kisses each of them on the cheek and says, “Whatever you decide, you are both welcome. I shouldn’t leave Marc-Andre alone this long, so I will go tell him you are coming and wait with him.”

“Sorry,” Sid mutters, but Vero shakes her head.

“It is interesting,” she says, with evident sincerity, “to see how it works, with the two of you.”

It takes Sid a minute to realize what she means – to realize that, in Vero and Flower’s relationship, there wouldn’t be this kind of debate. Vero might ask for Flower’s opinion before she made up her mind, but then again, she might not. And they definitely wouldn’t talk each other around to a joint decision like Sid and Geno have been doing. Vero would just… decide, probably. And then that’s what they would do.

“Huh,” he says, bemused, watching the door close behind her. That's not what he's used to—not with Geno, of course, but also not what he was raised with. Even though his parents have a mostly traditional relationship, Sid’s dad doesn’t have that power to decide stuff totally unilaterally: they wouldn’t openly debate stuff like Sid and Geno do, but the whole family took for granted that Sid’s mom had the right to air her opinions before Sid’s dad made any final decision.

_And all of us are happy_ , Sid thinks. _Us, my folks, and Vero and Flower. Even though we’re all doing it differently_. It’s kind of a weird thought. But also kind of a nice one.

“Okay, but like I’m say,” Geno says, picking up their earlier discussion and bringing Sid out of his thoughts, “is a lot of feelings last night, this morning, then scene, now this, and I’m worry, Sid! Don’t want you alone.” He’s making his puppy-eyes face at Sid, which is very cute, but not cute enough to change Sid's mind.

“I get that,” Sid allows, “but I _won’t_ be alone – I’ll be with Flower and Vero. Our friends. And _I_ worry that, if you’re there, Flower won’t feel like he can say what he was really thinking. I won’t get a real answer.”

“But like you say,” Geno counters shrewdly, “Flower is friend. He’s know me, Sid – I’m not just random dom maybe he’s feel like he has to pretend. Why he’s not honest, hm? Why you think he’s… hold back, or something?”

But Sid knows the answer to that one right away. “Because he did last night,” he says quietly, looking down at the ground. In front of all his dom friends—Tanger and Duper especially—who should have made him feel comfortable, Flower had kept silent when Sid needed him most.

Geno makes a soft, sympathetic humming noise. “Oh, Sid,” he murmurs, and he pulls Sid into his arms. “Okay, Sid.” He kisses Sid’s forehead and says ruefully, “Why I’m try argue with most smart sub, hmm? Always right.”

“I’m not _always_ right,” Sid mutters, pleased nevertheless at the praise.

“I’m write that down,” Geno says wryly.

*

So Geno reluctantly stays home, and Sid gets in his car and heads for Vero’s house. He walks up the front steps to the porch and knocks, swallowing a little thrum of nervousness that wants to climb up his throat.

When Vero opens the door, she says quietly, “I told him that you were coming, and why.” Then she steps back and motions for Sid to come in.

Immediately, Sid's eyes go to Flower, kneeling just inside the front door. Sid has the feeling he’s been kneeling there since Vero first left the house. His eyes are red.

Even as hurt and disappointed as he is, there’s no part of Sid that could hold back from dropping to his own knees and wrapping his arms around Flower.

But Flower flinches back and says, with difficulty, “Don’t—”

“Why not?” Sid demands. His arms drop uselessly to his sides. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Vero slipping away down the stairs.

Flower looks at the floor, shame scrawled across his face, and shakes his head. “I don’t deserve—”

“No,” Sid says immediately. He’s not having that. “ _No_. What you have with Vero, maybe that’s about deserving, but _this_ , us, what we have, it’s—”

_Above that_ , he almost says, but he catches himself – that’s not fair to Flower’s relationship with Vero, or to the relationship most of Sid’s friends and family and teammates have with their partners.

Instead, he says, “—it’s outside that. I don’t _care_ what you deserve. I just want…”

Sid’s voice cracks, and Flower reaches out to him instinctively—his hands stop just short of touching Sid, and that hurts, too.

“…I just want to know why you left me alone,” Sid finishes, raw.

Flower flinches again. “Sid, please…”

“I thought—I thought we didn’t do that,” Sid says painfully. “I thought… when they come for us, we have to stand up for each other, because _we’re_ the only ones we can count on,” he recites, remembering what Flower said to him that night in the parking garage.

Tears are trickling down Flower’s cheeks, and his arms are tucked up against his chest as if they’re broken. He chokes out, “I don’t—”

“You don’t know?” Sid asks.

Flower shakes his head, miserable, avoiding Sid’s gaze. “I do, I just…”

“It’s okay, Flower,” Sid says, his heart beating faster, “whatever it is, you can say—”

“No, I—”

He reaches out to Flower, promising, “Really, it’s okay, just—”

“I thought they were _right_ ,” Flower gasps, and he breaks down sobbing, hard enough to make his whole body shake.

Sid is frozen.

_I’ve changed my mind_ , he thinks, numbly. _I didn’t want to know, I don’t_ —

He would have forgiven Flower a hundred times for cowardice, or for not wanting to be a problem in the room, or for not knowing what to say, or for being too shocked to speak. It would have been easy.

This… Sid doesn’t know. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Flower might have been just as horrified as everybody else at the way Sid yelled at Geno on the bench – that Flower, too, might have thought that Sid had effectively traded in his captaincy by accepting Geno’s hand around his wrist. _Maybe that isn’t what Flower’s saying_ , he tells himself desperately. _I don’t even know for sure what he meant_.

So he asks.

While Sid was processing, Flower’s sobs have petered out; tears are still flowing from the corners of his eyes, but he can breathe without shaking. When he hears Sid’s question, he hangs his head, and answers softly, “I thought… I thought you’d gone too far.” Sid’s gut lurches. Flower continues, “The way you’d talked to him was… no dom could just—let that go. And the kind of punishment that would be harsh enough to balance out a transgression like that… it would be—it would _have_ to be… brutal.” Flower shivers. “And that was… if he even _could_ forgive you.” He looks up at Sid out of the corner of his eye, head still bowed in shame. “Honestly, Sid, I—I didn’t think he could. I thought for sure he was going to give back your ring.”

Sid pulls in a sharp breath, as if he’s been struck. “He wouldn’t,” he says fiercely, although he’d feared that very thing when he’d come home last night to find Geno silent in the dark.

Flower closes his eyes. “I know. Fuck, Sid, I don’t know if you want to hear any of this—”

Sid’s frankly not sure, either, but he didn’t come this far and make Flower cry just to say _Never mind, let’s just pretend this never happened_. So he puts an arm around Flower’s shoulders for support, just like Geno did for him before, and says, “I do want to know. However you can explain it, I—please.”

Flower nods unhappily. He’s quiet for a minute, putting his thoughts in order. Then he begins, “My whole life…” His voice cracks on the word “life” and he flushes, then starts over. “All my life,” he explains softly, “when I see a sub do something that makes his dom angry, _very_ angry…” He shudders. “It’s the same ending, Sid,” he says, almost pleading. “ _Always_. Punishment, or… it’s over. I couldn’t imagine the story ending another way. I couldn’t… m-my head couldn’t make it fit. But that’s no f-fucking excuse, and I know it.”

He ducks his head, hiding his face, but not fast enough to hide the shame twisting up his features. His shoulders are shaking again as he says unsteadily, “I’m so sorry, Sid. You needed me, and I—I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why you were so… sure. Why you wouldn’t take Pascal’s help, why you kept insisting nothing was wrong, I thought—I thought you were crazy, I thought you _should_ be afraid, and I f-fucking let you down. I’m so s-sorry, _Sid_ , I—”

By the time his voice gives out under the weight of how hard he’s crying, Flower is collapsed in Sid’s arms, tears dripping into the notch of Sid’s collarbone. Sid holds on tight and presses his cheek to Flower’s forehead.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, and he means it. He understands now – and with that understanding comes forgiveness. How could he not forgive Flower, when the struggle that kept Flower from speaking up is as familiar to Sid as his own name? “It’s okay. I know how hard it is. To imagine something different.” Boy, does he ever. “I know how hard it is to try to change the story in your own head, when it’s only ever gone one way, again and again. It’s the hardest thing. The hardest.” Tears are starting to roll down Sid’s cheeks as well – not from sadness or anger, but just tears of pure catharsis, cleansing him from the inside out. “I understand. I love you, Flower. It’s okay.”

That makes Flower cry harder, but Sid thinks—at least as far as he can tell this sort of thing—that it’s cathartic for him, too. Flower’s not so tightly tensed up as he was before, and his arms lift to wrap around Sid, offering as well as accepting support. There are very few people who Sid would allow to see him like this—broken-down and messy and vulnerable—but Flower’s been on that list for a very long time, and Sid has nothing to hide from him. There’s no need to hold anything back.

Eventually, when they’ve both wound down some, Flower leans back enough to look Sid in the eye. “I was supposed to know better,” he acknowledges, his voice clear even though it’s still rough with tears. “ _I_ was the one who told _you_ that a sub’s relationship with his dom is just between them, however works for them.”

“Yeah.” Sid has to let go of Flower because his back is killing him in this position, but as he folds down to sit cross-legged, he catches Flower’s hand and keeps hold of it. “And I’m glad you did. I still think about that a lot – it helped, Flower.”

Flower squeezes Sid’s hand and gives him a tired half-smile. “I am happy. But I wish _I_ had thought about it more.” He sighs, and lifts his free hand to rub over his face. “I thought of myself as such a big fucking rebel: I make more money than Vero, I don’t do much around the house, we have this teasing kind of relationship even in front of other people… but I did not see all the things I still take for granted. I’m sorry, Sid.”

Earlier today, Sid would have said those were the words he most wanted to hear – but it turns out what he really wanted was to understand, to know _why_. Now that he does, he feels about ten pounds lighter. It makes it easy to be forgiving.

“It’s like being a goalie, right?” Sid says, shrugging. “You’ll never stop ‘em all. But…” He nudges Flower gently with his shoulder. “Your save percentage is still pretty good.”

Flower lets out a slow, shuddering breath and looks down at their joined hands. “You are too good to me.”

“No such thing,” Sid says tenderly.

Flower sniffles a little and liberates his hand from Sid’s so he can dab at the drying tear tracks on his cheeks. “You will make me cry again,” he mutters. When he’s done, he sits back a little on his heels and looks back up at Sid. “Will you accept my apology?”

“I already have.”

Flower nods, pleased. “Did Geno accept Vero’s?”

“Yes. But I didn’t.” When Flower gives him a quizzical look, Sid explains, “It wasn’t _her_ apology I wanted.”

Flower shakes his head, his mouth curling into a wry grin. “That is hard for me to imagine, too – a sub rejecting a dom’s apology to another dom. But when it is you… that is an easier picture to think of.”

“Yeah,” Sid says, amused, “when you need to imagine a sub doing something crazy, just picture me doing it, and that’ll be easier for sure.”

Flower catches Sid’s gaze and says firmly, “Yes. Because you are brave.”

Sid blushes, but he doesn’t look away. He’s getting better, he thinks, about accepting praise from the people who matter to him. “Thank you,” he says instead, and Flower smiles.

From down the stairs, Vero’s voice calls, “Alo! How is everyone?”

Sid startles – now that he hears her voice, he remembers her quietly heading down the stairs earlier, but he’d forgotten all about her while he was focused on Flower. She must have stepped away to give him and Flower some privacy… which, now that he thinks of it, is a pretty significant gesture from a dom who views everything Flower does as her business.

_It must be driving her crazy, not knowing what’s going on_ , he thinks, and he quickly yells back, “We’re good! Everything’s good!”

“Excellent!” she replies. “Are you done with your private sub conversation?”

Sid glances at Flower, who nods. He calls down, “Yeah, we’re done.”

“Oh, good! Because I am getting hungry for dinner.”

As soon as she mentions it, Sid’s stomach grumbles. “Dinner sounds really good,” he agrees. He climbs to his feet, but when he offers Flower a hand up, Flower refuses.

“Vero has not said that I am done,” he says softly, looking down.

Before Sid can react to that, Vero comes up the stairs – she smiles when she sees them. “You both look well. A little damp, but well.” She comes to stand in front of Flower and hooks a finger in the front of his collar, and the smile fades from her face. She tells him, “Geno accepted my apology on your behalf.”

Flower swallows and tries to duck his head – her grip on his collar, light but firm, stops him. He whispers, “I’m so sorry you had to—”

“He accepted it,” she repeats, cutting Flower off, but without heat or anger. “But Sid had a very good point, which was that my apology was not enough. So now I ask you: did you apologize to our dear friend Sid?”

“I did, _maîtresse_ ,” he answers, eyes still lowered.

Sid nods in corroboration, but Vero doesn’t look at him – she only has eyes for Flower.

She asks, “And did he accept your apology?”

“He did, _maîtresse_.”

“Then you are forgiven,” she murmurs, bending to press a kiss to his forehead. “Come, my love. No more punishment. Come and stand, and hold me.”

Sid steps close to help support Flower as he gets to his feet – if Flower’s been kneeling for as long as Sid thinks, it’s no surprise that he wobbles a little as he unfolds. As soon as Flower’s steady on his feet, he and Vero embrace each other tightly, and even when they break apart, Vero keeps an arm around Flower’s waist, reassuring.

“We will get takeout, of course,” she announces. “Sid, would you like to invite Geno?”

“I would, yeah,” Sid says. He knows Geno must be worrying about him… and just for Sid’s own sake, selfishly, he’d like to have Geno close. Geno wasn’t wrong when he said that the last twenty-four hours have been a lot for Sid, and Sid could really use Geno’s comforting, supportive presence right now.

When Geno answers the phone with a hurried, “It’s okay, Sid? You need me?” Sid smiles and knows he was right to call.

“It’s all good,” he says. “We’re going to get takeout – want to join us?”

Vero prompts, “Ask if he likes Vietnamese!”

“Yes, want join,” Geno enthuses, “and yes, like Vietnamese! We can get from place with little rolls of grilled beef? And is soup you like.”

“The soup _I_ like, hmm?” Sid asks, amused: he has never successfully finished a bowl of pho in front of Geno without Geno asking, faux-casually, “Oh, you look full – you done? You want I have the rest?”

Geno ignores this with a sniff. “Ask Vero and Flower what they want, okay, Sid? And I’m pick up and come over.”

“Sounds good.”

When Geno shows up about twenty minutes later, loaded down with bags, he nods politely at Vero, then turns to beam at Sid.

“Hello, best,” he says softly, and Sid flushes. Geno hardly ever praises him or calls him pet names in front of other people, and it’s a little embarrassing, but with everything that’s happened today, it’s just what he needed.

“I’m hug you,” Geno continues, looking sheepish, “but my arms full of soup and I’m spill if I hug.”

“ _I_ can still hug _you_ ,” Sid says, and he suits actions to words, wrapping his arms around Geno’s body and tucking his face under Geno’s jaw. The closeness feels like a warm hand on the back on his neck – soothing and grounding, with a shiver of pleasure.

“Most smart,” Geno mumbles approvingly into Sid’s hair. “And now eat?”

“Yeah,” Sid agrees, stepping back regretfully – he wouldn’t mind holding on a little longer, but it’s a little weird cuddling when Vero and Flower are watching them, and anyway, the food is getting cold.

“They are _so cute_ ,” Vero stage-whispers to Flower, and Sid flushes again and escapes up the stairs with one of the bags of take-out.

The kitchen is a flurry of activity as they figure out which dishes belong to which person, and who needs what silverware, with Vero directing traffic.

"I may not be any good at cooking," she says philosophically, "but I am  _excellent_ at serving takeout!"

When they’re all done dividing up the food, they take the whole feast into the dining room and arrange themselves at one end of the hilariously large formal dinner table. Sid and Geno each eat off of their own plates and bowls—barring a few incidents of petty larceny by Geno, who wasn’t smart enough to order his own summer rolls—and for once, Sid doesn’t feel a single instant of the self-consciousness that dogs him whenever he and Geno eat together in public. And Vero feeds herself and Flower off of one heaping, shared plate—never letting her chili noodles touch his pickled carrots, because she knows he has no tolerance for spice—and for once, Sid can appreciate the beauty and intimacy of that tradition without feeling it as a judgment on himself and his submission. They can just sit around the table and be who they are: two couples with three plates. And that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> All feedback is loved! Even just copying and pasting a line that stood out to you means a lot.


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